


i'm longing for words (to describe how i'm feeling)

by rafidesuyo



Series: it's my heartbeat (i'm feeling so alive) [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Nightmares, brendon is not okay, like seriously it's angst, ryan is not okay too, they talked it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafidesuyo/pseuds/rafidesuyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan wondered if he hated Brendon as well. If he stopped loving him.</p><p>He doesn’t, though.</p><p>Couldn’t.</p><p>-</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6782857">i give up all i had (just to breathe)</a>, but can be read as stand-alone, though it probably made more sense if you read the first part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm longing for words (to describe how i'm feeling)

**Author's Note:**

> Finals are awaiting next week and yet I'm writing fanfics ha ha ha (cries)
> 
> Title still taken from Secondhand Serenade. Also still unbeta-ed so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

It took him some time to get out of the rehab.

But really, going in to the rehab was just some kind of formality on the first place. Ryan had regretted what he had done, especially after he knew that Brendon was hurt by what he did—but he had to. Brendon doesn’t want him to go, but he said if it was necessary, then he should go.

But seriously, ever since he woke up in the hospital and met with Spencer’s sad eyes, he had regretted his decision. And when he laid his eyes on Brendon, he—

Back then in the hospital, even when he was sleeping, Brendon looked wrecked and vulnerable. His eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying ever since he found Ryan. Maybe he did, and Ryan couldn’t ever get the image off of his mind; wouldn’t ever forgive himself for being the cause of that.

He left the rehab facility quicker than he expected.

Ryan had even surprised himself when the doctors said he could go home. It hadn’t been more than two weeks, and it’s not that he really enjoyed it, being in rehab—he hated the fact that he had to go there; but it was still a surprise to him.

Being separated from Brendon like this made him think on how vulnerable Brendon probably was, back when he was still doing _it_. About how he might want to cry, but he couldn’t. About how he might want to do what Ryan was intending to do, but he couldn’t. About how Brendon keeps pretending that he’s fine in front of Ryan, and Ryan never noticed that Brendon was _pretending_.

He wonders how long. How long had Brendon been pretending.

Ryan closed his eyes, and breathed.

He wonders if he could make it up to Brendon.

-x-

It was Spencer and Brendon who picked him up from the facility.

Spencer didn’t change much—which was pretty normal because Ryan was only gone for two weeks, but.

How Brendon looks like surprised him.

Brendon still looks the same, he doesn’t change much, indeed; but Ryan could notice how distant Brendon’s eyes could be when he thought no one was paying attention to him. He doesn’t change much, his jaw was still clean-shaven, but Ryan could notice how much darker the shadows under Brendon’s eyes had become. He doesn’t change much, he was still smiling and laughing at every joke that Spencer threw to him, but even that doesn’t look real.

Sometimes when they talked, Spencer would steal a glance to him, and Ryan would glance back to catch the other’s gaze. From the light in Spencer’s eyes, Ryan knows that Spencer knows that Brendon’s faking it.

Brendon looked tired.

Ryan wonders quietly if it was because of him.

-x-

When he got back, everything still felt the same.

His and Brendon’s shared apartment was still the same, the things scattered inside it was still as how he remembered it. Their room was still the same, minus the sharp objects he used to hurt himself weeks ago. Their bathroom was still the same, with the same soap and shampoos and everything—minus the sharp objects, once again. Brendon’s cooking still tastes the same, amazing as always—at least it’s amazing to Ryan—and everything was still the same.

Everything was; except Brendon.

-x-

Ryan doesn’t go back to classes immediately.

Brendon and Spencer insisted that he had to get some time off from classes, and it’s not like Ryan wanted to be in class as soon as he got out, anyway. The classes he took this semester was pretty boring, just some standard stuffs that he could always figure out by himself, so he doesn’t really see the loss of not going back to class immediately.

Brendon still takes classes, though.

That was what made Ryan got even bored without Brendon running around in their shared place, and it’s not like Spencer doesn’t have classes too. And Spencer and Brendon kind of restricted him to go anywhere besides the grocery store, and he doesn’t have the mood to go out anyway, so he was pretty bored.

He had already finished reading all the books that he had, he had even finished re-reading them all. He thought of begging Spencer and Brendon to allow him to go out and buy some new books to ease his boredom.

Internet was kind of boring when he doesn’t really have anything to look for, so Ryan wandered around the apartment.

He wandered around the apartment and went into every room for at least twice, and eventually, he got bored. Ryan huffed, looking at the clock on the wall, and there’s still another hour until Brendon came back.

And Ryan realized something else; that Brendon came home on the right time for dinner. And usually Brendon cooks for them; no matter how tired he was—unless Ryan managed to let him order some take-outs.

Ryan’s gaze fell on the kitchen, then. He realized that he had never cooked for them ever since they started living together, not even once.

Well, Brendon’s not going to come home soon, anyway. Ryan figured that he might…learn to cook a little bit.

Sure, he never really cooks, but he felt bad if he had Brendon to cook for them after he got back from a probably tiring day, and he wanted to give it a shot, anyway. Maybe whenever Brendon got home late at night, he could be the one who cooks for Brendon. The thought made him smile a little.

The thing is; Ryan only knows one thing or two about cooking—so he ended up wasting some time to browse on some recipes online. At first, he was confused on what to cook, but then he settled on cooking mashed potatoes and some chicken. Ryan had tried to cook chicken once or twice back when he wasn’t living with Brendon, and it wasn’t quite hard. Hopefully.

So, after minutes of taking the ingredients out of the fridge and the freezer, Ryan started to cook. Well, more like, tried to cook. He tried his best on peeling the potatoes and cutting the chicken to make it seem edible; not that Ryan planned it to end looking inedible.

When he was deep on concentration by cutting the chickens, the door creaks open. Ryan was surprised and accidentally cuts himself with the knife, but he immediately looks up from the chicken and laid his eyes on Brendon, who was standing in front of the door with a shocked expression. “Oh, Bren, welcome ho—”

Ryan was cut off when Brendon ran to his side and slapped the knife out of his hand, and it fell on the kitchen floor with a loud clang. Before Ryan even registered what just happened, Brendon took his wounded hand in Brendon’s, clutching it desperately. The silence that follows after was deafening, and Ryan blinked in surprise.

For a moment, they both stayed there. Ryan’s eyes were wide open, mostly from surprise as he kept his gaze on Brendon, who looked shocked and scared, and he was trembling, as if he was about to be in tears. He might be, though—but Ryan couldn’t really confirm that thought as Brendon crashed to him.

That movement caught him off guard, and they went stumbling down. Ryan grunted, but he doesn’t really mind the pain even after he landed on his butt because—because Brendon was crying.

Brendon never cried in front of him.

Ryan was still on surprise as he kept on hearing the younger man’s sobs, the little sobs that tore through his body, shaking him thoroughly. Brendon was crying, crying so hard that Ryan couldn’t really catch what he was muttering so quick under his breath, fighting with the hiccups that went free.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon sobbed, and it took Ryan more than a second to understand what he was babbling out, and when he does, it breaks his heart. “I’m sorry, oh God—I thought you—I didn’t—Ryan—”

What was Brendon sorry for? Ryan couldn’t really understand, but he didn’t ask. He was confused, but he didn’t ask; couldn’t ask, because Brendon was sobbing, crying, and the sound of it shattered Ryan’s heart.

Brendon was never like this, and it hurts him to realize that he wasn’t like this because he pretended to be okay.

-x-

Brendon had nightmares.

Not always, but Ryan knew that the nightmares were bad enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night. Ryan never asked, and Brendon never tells him, but he knew that it was why the shadows under Brendon’s eyes got so dark.

Sometimes, Brendon’s nightmare roused him from his sleep too. And whenever it happened, Ryan would pretend that he’s still asleep, that he didn’t hear Brendon’s soft sobs; that he didn’t know that Brendon had nightmares.

Though, he knows that he should probably stop pretending soon.

So when he felt the body beside him jerked awake, and heard the sobs following after, Ryan opened his eyes.

Ryan wasn’t sleeping, anyway. He had been sleeping the whole day, as he had nothing to do and he wasn’t about to try cooking again soon, so he wasn’t sleepy. Brendon’s eyes were closed, but there were tears streaming down his face. His whole body was trembling, and God, he looked so small and hurt and vulnerable, and Ryan felt his eyes burn.

Brendon was still crying quietly, his eyes pressed tightly as his whole body trembles. Ryan tentatively reached one hand out; touching the younger’s tears-stained cheek with his hand.

The touch clearly surprised Brendon, as his eyes flew open and they were wide with—with fear, perhaps. Sadness. Guilt. Unexplainable expressions that made Ryan blink back his own tears.

“Hey,” Ryan started, and brushed Brendon’s cheek with his thumb. He looked exhausted. Ryan’s heart hurts.

“Did I—” Brendon paused, breath hitching in a sob, then continued, “Did I wake you? I—I’m sorry, I—”

“—hey, ssh,” Ryan shushed him, letting his thumb trailing down to press on Brendon’s lip. “I wasn’t sleeping; I slept the whole day earlier. It’s okay.”

Brendon looked like he wants to object, but he looked exhausted as well. He stays quiet. Ryan sighed, and moved his hand from Brendon’s cheek to the back of his neck, tugging Brendon closer to him.

“Want to tell me about it?” Ryan asked, and Brendon stilled. He didn’t answer. Ryan stays silent for a minute, rubbing circles on Brendon’s back. Minutes passed in silence, and Brendon’s breathing was still uneven, but Ryan doesn’t ask again.

Ryan took a deep sigh and glanced down at Brendon, and finding that Brendon had his eyes closed. He was still, even when Ryan pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I’m here,” Ryan whispered, just because he knew that Brendon wasn’t asleep, just pretending to be. Brendon did a good job of pretending to be sleeping, and Ryan continued, “If you want to talk. I’m here; it’s okay.”

Brendon stirs, but doesn’t open his eyes. Minutes passed, and his breathing slowly evened out, and Ryan closed his eyes, resting his chin against the top of Brendon’s head.

“I love you,” he whispered.

-x-

Spencer was worried.

Of course he was worried, Spencer knows Brendon longer than Ryan did. Brendon was Spencer’s best friend, so of course he was worried.

He was never this worried, though, Ryan knows.

“He’s not—he’s not okay,” Spencer told him one day, when they walked to the bookstore because Ryan was too bored without having anything to entertain him back home. “He’s not okay, Ryan.”

 _I know_ , Ryan wanted to say, because even now Brendon still wakes up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, even now Brendon still hides sharp objects from him, but he stays silent. He assumed that Spencer heard the unspoken words anyway.

“I’m worried.”

_Me too, Spencer. Believe me, me too._

-x-

Brendon fell asleep on the dining table.

He was doing his homework, and Ryan was watching TV in the living room so Brendon did it in the dining room. But sometime through the night, when Ryan looked to the dining room Brendon was asleep.

Back then, he looked beautiful and rested when he was asleep. By now, he looked beautiful still, but he looked—sad. Tired. Exhausted.

Depressed.

And Ryan knows that half of it was because of him, and it hurts him whenever he thinks about it again. Ryan knows that Brendon was hurting because of _him_ , and it hurts him that he couldn’t really help.

Brendon never tells him.

Ryan doesn’t wake Brendon, since he feared that Brendon wouldn’t go back to sleep if he did. Brendon looked tired enough and Ryan doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. He doesn’t even stir when Ryan gathered him in his arms, lifting him off from the dining chair. Before he turned to their shared room, Ryan caught something in Brendon’s notebook; a scribble.

_let me save you, hold this rope._

Ryan closed his eyes, and breathed.

 _No, let_ me _save you, Brendon._

-x-

The nightmare was bad this night.

Bad enough that it seemed like the whole bed jerked when Brendon woke up; and it woke Ryan from his sleep. He was still half-asleep and disoriented when he opened his eyes, though that didn’t stay long as Brendon’s sobs filled the cold room.

Brendon was shaking when Ryan pulled him into his arm, and his sobs were so loud, heart-wrenching. Ryan’s heart hurts.

Ryan doesn’t ask, though. Doesn’t ask, doesn’t talk, even though his senses were screaming to _ask something_ and his heart hurts, it hurts so much, and he wonders if this was how Brendon felt weeks ago, when he was still hurting himself.

Brendon keeps crying, though, and it hurts Ryan too much when Brendon starts mumbling out, “don’t leave me”, “I don’t want to be alone”, and “I’m sorry.”

Ryan bit his lower lip, feeling his eyes burn, and hugged Brendon closer.

“I love you, Bren,” he muttered, yet Brendon keeps crying. “I love you, God, I love you.”

Brendon doesn’t say it back.

Ryan pretended that it doesn’t hurt.

-x-

Sometimes Ryan wondered if their relationship was damaged. Probably it was, though Ryan wasn’t sure. He wondered who damaged it, him or Brendon.

Or both.

Ryan wondered if they could fix it, sometime later.

-x-

Brendon wasn’t getting any better.

Ryan knows that Brendon was exhausted by the lack of sleep, yet he couldn’t sleep. The nightmares were still around. Brendon was still not telling him about the nightmares.

He keeps falling asleep when he was doing his homework, though. Sometimes he even fell asleep when he was playing guitar. One time, Ryan barely saved the kitchen from fire because Brendon fell asleep when he was boiling some potatoes.

It got bad.

And Ryan really, really wanted to help Brendon. He really, really wanted to know what’s wrong with Brendon, wanted to know what made him lose his sleep, wanted to know if _he_ was the one who made Brendon like this.

And sometimes he asked; when he felt desperate enough.

Brendon never answered.

-x-

Ryan wondered if Brendon hated him.

They never talked, never really talked. It was just some greetings on the morning and in the night before they sleep.

Usually, when Brendon woke up from a nightmare, Ryan would hold him close and tells him that he loves him. Brendon never said it back. But by now, he stopped telling Brendon that.

Ryan wondered if he hated Brendon as well. If he stopped loving him.

He doesn’t, though.

Couldn’t.

-x-

It has been weeks since Ryan came back from the rehab, and the desire to cut was back.

He was frustrated enough that the desire was back. He was frustrated with Brendon. He was frustrated because Brendon was clearly not okay and he doesn’t tell Ryan, not at all, not even a word. He was frustrated at what he and Brendon had become, about how broken they relationship seemed to be; about how they barely talked, yet they were still living together.

He was frustrated because Brendon keeps pretending that everything was fine, that they were fine, even though they clearly weren’t.

He was frustrated enough.

Though, whenever he looks right into Brendon’s eyes, the thought goes away.

-x-

“Tell me about it.”

Brendon opened his eyes, and God, he looked so unlike Brendon. His eyes were red from the lack of sleep, and the shadows under his eyes were purple, as if someone had punched him on the face. His cheerfulness was completely gone, even the pretend-cheerfulness was gone. Spencer told him so, the other day. Brendon wasn’t even trying to smile anymore, wasn’t even trying to pretend.

His hair was still the same. The shades of his eyes were still the same.

He was still Brendon, but he wasn’t.

“Tell me,” Ryan repeated, keeping his voice steady, trying not to break. It’s hard. He wondered if this was how Brendon felt like. Pretending was hard. He wondered how people managed to pretend like this. “Tell me about it, Bren. God, tell me.”

Brendon averted his gaze somewhere, and stays silent. Ryan wanted to scream.

“Brendon, I want to help you,” Ryan said, and his chest hurts. It was too tight, too tight. “Let me.”

“I—” Brendon started, and stopped. He bit his lower lip, gaze was still averted. “It’s nothing important.”

“You can’t sleep,” Ryan said, and he was surprised at the amount of frustration that was showing in his voice. “It must be bad enough that you can’t sleep. You’re tired, Bren—damn it. I’m worried, please, _tell_ _me_.”

Brendon pressed his lips together, and it trembled. As if he was trying not to cry. Perhaps he does. “Brendon.”

“It’s—” Brendon’s breath hitched, and he took a deep breath. Ryan was silent, even when Brendon fell silent. The silence stretches far too long, but Ryan stays silent, even though he wanted to scream at Brendon to _just tell me already, Bren._

“I—It was about you,” Brendon continued, then, and Ryan holds his breath. The younger man lifted his head to stare at him, eyes glassy and hopeless, and Ryan stays quiet so that Brendon can continue.

“It was about you,” he repeated, and Ryan listened. When he continued, his voice was shaky. “And you, you were leaving me. When I wasn’t around, you were—and, and when I came back, y-you—”

Brendon doesn’t continue, and the words weren’t clear at all, but Ryan understands. This time, Ryan doesn’t wait for him to continue telling him about the nightmare. Instead, Ryan pulled him into a hug, and blinks back his own tears. It’s no use. He felt his tears rolling down from his eyes, warm to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, his heart heavy with sadness and guilt. Brendon shook his head rapidly, and he continued, “No—listen. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Brendon objected, but Ryan shushed him.

“It was,” Ryan insisted, burying his nose on Brendon’s hair. “It was, even though you didn’t realize that. It was, and I’m sorry—I won’t do it again.”

Brendon seemed like he was about to object, but Ryan shushed him with a kiss to the top of his head. He wanted to kiss Brendon, he really wants to, but they hadn’t kissed since he came back, and it felt kind of wrong to start that now—

Except, Brendon shifted until he was leaning his forehead to Ryan’s, and even though Ryan had his eyes closed, he could feel Brendon’s lips hovering closer to his. He could feel Brendon’s shaky exhale against the top of his lips, and he was pretty sure than Brendon could feel the same.

And they kissed. It wasn’t an awkward one, despite how long they hadn’t kissed; despite how long their relationship seemed to be broken. It wasn’t a desperate kiss, as well; they just sealed their lips together.

It feels right.

“I love you,” Brendon whispered when they parted. And God knows how long Ryan wanted to hear those words, God knows how desperate he was to hear those words again from Brendon, and he smiled.

It feels right.

It’s going to be alright.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
